The Pale Bridge

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2026-08-25 00:29:37 -

The Pale Bridge

The chisel bit into the pale stone with a sound like a tooth cracking, and Elias Thorne pulled his hand back, shaking the numbness from his knuckles as the morning light struggled to pierce the thick, white fog that had swallowed Oakhaven for the third day running. He was thirty years old, a warden of the trade routes, and he had a quota to meet before the winter set in, but the bridge in front...

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